


moon swallowed

by youngjo



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, Found Family, M/M, Magical Elements, Minor Character Death, Poly Pack Dynamics, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: He had grown used to fate taking more and more from him, until Hwanwoong only had a name to offer. And then Youngjo came bearing change, and everything he thought he knew tipped reality on its side.Or, werewolves aren't just storybook monsters, and Hwanwoong must navigate his new self while darkness threatens to swallow him whole.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	moon swallowed

**Author's Note:**

> I present chapter one of my werewolf oneus au \\(*^*)/ this is NOT a/b/o so if you're looking for those dynamics, I apologize! this is my own take on werewolf lore mixed w magic elements that I personally enjoy, so I hope it captures your interest even a lil bit!!
> 
> they are all poly though this fic will focus heavily on hwanjo and a growing relationship between them!
> 
> tags will update with each chapter / as stuff is slowly introduced!

The first time the wolf met him, he’d surely scared the boy out of his mind. Standing over the human, maw dripping with blood, nothing about him screamed friendly. The blood didn’t belong to either of them, nor did his malice extend to the human cowering below his chest. But any human, rational or not, would assume so. He screamed, and despite Kim Youngjo, a werewolf cursed with immortality, having heard such a noise countless times throughout his lifespan, no other had caught him off guard in such a way. Terror in its most raw form carried a power unmatched by other emotions and the creature Youngjo had turned himself into a physical shield against knew this—was responsible for it, actually.

What stood before him was the shadow of a noble creature, once a sane wolf with hopes and dreams just like himself. The creature no longer deserved a name. It had dabbled in an arcane art many were warned to stay away from, and it was this power that drove it to madness. Fur mangy and flesh clinging haphazardly to its bones, it had crossed the threshold between noble wolf and deranged dog without care. Blood dripped from its maw too, but Youngjo could not tell whether it belonged to the quaking human or spilled from its own insides.

“ _Giiiiive iiiiit toooo meeee,_ ” the creature whispered, tongue lolling from its mouth. 

Had Youngjo been human, a chill would’ve certainly cut to his bones.

“Remember your roots, wolf. Remember who you are,” Youngjo spat back, tail curling over his back in warning.

“ _Thessse arrrre my rootsss now,_ ” it replied, displaying a flash of teeth. 

It surged forward without warning, catching his shoulder between sharp fangs. The creature tore him off of the human and brought him to the ground. Youngjo’s only reprieve came in sprawling on his back. Pressing his hind legs to the other being’s stomach, he pushed until it was forced to let go, teeth tearing free. The wolf didn’t hesitate, jaws clamping around the terrifying creature’s neck and locking even as it struggled. Youngjo felt no remorse as its struggling stilled; the former wolf had admitted it no longer knew how to be human.

Rising back to his full height, Youngjo’s gaze trailed back to the boy staring at him in wide-eyed horror. Blood spilled hotly down his flank as the two regarded each other in silence. The human’s small frame began to tremble with the force of an early morning tide. It took only a moment to spot the tattered mess of flesh and blood that made up the human’s arm. Yellow eyes widened at the realization; he’d been bitten. No longer could Youngjo walk away from this. Really, Youngjo had lost the option to walk away the moment he’d intervened. But he had never been one to run away from those who needed help, and this was the personality trait that landed him in hot water more often than not.

“I won’t hurt you, human,” he said, tongue curling as it formed into human speech. The boy didn’t answer, instead clutching the mangled mess of his arm. Youngjo took a cautious step forward and, despite what he’d been through, the tiny frame did not pull away. Now that the wolf could actually spare time to look him over, he felt his heart break ever more.

Face dirty and cheeks sunken, the human looked underfed and abandoned. His feet sat bare and the pants clinging to his legs harbored too many holes. Youngjo was no fool; the boy had been cast out onto the street to fend for himself. No wonder the silenced creature had chosen him. Finding a soul weighted with trauma and sadness, who would not be missed by those meant to care for it, was a blessing. His heart clenched in his chest; he knew that feeling better than anyone.

“Are you going to hurt me too?” The human’s voice carried surprisingly level, catching even Youngjo off guard. Even as he sat there bleeding out, not an ounce of fear remained despite the tremors cascading through his body. He had, perhaps, come to terms with reality already.

“No. I am not …  _ like that. _ ” Youngjo laid down upon the cool concrete in the hope of making himself look less threatening, his body appreciating the moment of reprieve. His muscles hummed from the magic passed onto him via the bite, his own core attacking what remained of the dark wisps fighting against the barriers within. 

“Maybe I lost too much blood …” He responded, sagging against the ground—because he had to, not because of relaxation. Their eye contact did not break. “But … you’re not a dog. You’re a wolf.”

“I am neither dog nor wolf, but that is not important right now,” Youngjo said. “You are indeed running out of time.”

“You’re talking about this, right?” The human lifted his arm with surprising strength, drops of crimson staining his pants. “I’ve read enough books. I’m gonna go crazy.”

Youngjo crawled forward until his paws settled in sticky wetness. “It doesn’t have to be like that, if you allow me to help you.” 

The human laughed dryly, cradling his arm against his chest once more. Youngjo could see a scattered mismatch of scars upon the skin of his unaffected one and his resolve only grew. “If I don’t? Will you have to kill me?”

Youngjo gently pressed a paw against the boy’s knee, forcing their eyes to meet once again. “I won’t sugarcoat it. You were bitten by a werewolf tonight, and you will turn regardless. But that,” and he threw a glance over his shoulder, the body of the creature still and cold, “Was not a wolf like me. He sought more, and darkness shattered his mind. You will turn into that.” 

_ And I will have to kill you. _

The silent words hung between them but the human seemed to pick up on the implication regardless. Moments of quiet contemplation ticked by but, even with their time limit, he did not rush the boy. Youngjo watched his face grow progressively troubled.

“Then … what happens if I choose you? What’s the difference?”

“I will mix our blood and seal your wound, and then you will become my pup, not theirs. My magic will overcome the one fighting within you.”

“Why?” He asked, voice quivering now; his eyes looked ready to spill with tears. 

“Because you do not deserve to die like this.” Youngjo rose to his feet once more, towering over the human. “You must make the choice soon, or your body will undergo the transformation and I won’t be able to bring you from the darkness.”

“I accept,” he replied instantly, voice quiet. “I have nothing else to lose anyway.”

Youngjo nodded. “Tell me your full name, human.”

The human paused, taking a breath. He looked hesitant, as if afraid to hand over such an important part of himself. Or, perhaps, he had never expected someone to care enough about knowing him—let alone ask for the only thing he owned.

“Yeo … Yeo Hwanwoong,” he whispered. 

“Hwanwoong … a nice name. Please hold out your arm.” A hum of energy threaded from the ground into his paws, mouth tasting the name as one would savor a new wine. He swallowed it readily and advanced towards the boy, teeth sinking into his tongue. Youngjo allowed several drops to fall onto the bitemarks before he lowered his head, cleaning away the creature’s blood and any negative energy clinging to his skin. The wound began to close the moment he started. Flesh and muscle knitted back together and the faintest yellow glow rose from within.

The second it fizzled out, Youngjo pulled back; his mind felt heavy with the burden of a new charge. But with morning fast approaching, rest was not an option.

“You may sleep now, Hwanwoong, if you wish. When you awaken, you will be within your new home.”

Hwanwoong didn’t answer, slumping back against the pavement as the intensity of the night’s events finally caught up to him. Youngjo circled him once, checking for any signs of darkness, before he nudged his nose beneath the human’s small frame. Hoisting him onto his back was a little too easy, and Youngjo knew he’d offer the human feast upon awakening. He would be back again before dawn to get rid of the body.

Thus, Youngjo set off into the night, his footfalls swallowed up by the sound of distant traffic. There was still plenty of work to do that evening.

xxx

Mind a scrambled mess of thoughts and colors, the creature whipped around the room with force matched only by a gun threatening to fire. Smells of all kinds assaulted its nose and an overwhelming cascade of noises fought for dominance in its thoughts. The creature snarled, baring its teeth as it became aware of another presence in the room. It lunged without a moment of hesitation, fangs sinking into soft flesh and blood rushing in a copper sea over its tongue. 

“Fight it. I know you can do it.”

The voice startled the creature, sending a ripple of apprehensiveness through its body. Deep down, it recognized the owner; it soothed the darkness in its heart. Its vision swam as the haze clouding its mind fought to lift. Within seconds, a face came into view. A human. A man, with scruffy black hair and brows furrowed in pain. 

_ You are human too. Remember? _

A tiny voice in the back of its mind dragged conscious thought forward. 

“The first transformation is the hardest, Hwanwoong. You must fight back to the surface.”

_ Hwanwoong. _ Yes. That was his name. He was Yeo Hwanwoong.

As the realization settled deep within his bones, Hwanwoong let go of the arm his teeth were currently latched onto. Words curled against his tongue but he couldn’t find a voice with which to speak them. Instead, something within him drove to clean the wound he’d left behind. His mind fought against the flicker of darkness still threatening the edges of his consciousness, but the voice of the man before him seemed to stave it off for the moment. Despite the situation being dire no matter what angle he viewed it from, Hwanwoong felt safe, like his body knew not an ounce of harm would come to it.

Fingers brushed the top of his head, Hwanwoong flinching under the touch. He jerked away and took several steps back.

Calculating eyes followed his movements but the man made no attempt to follow. Instead, he withdrew his hand. “I apologize, I should’ve asked before touching.”

Hwanwoong wanted to reply but he couldn’t seem to formulate the words. A million questions bubbled through his chest, mostly a handful of how and where and why. 

“Do you remember what you look like, Hwanwoong? You must close your eyes and picture your face.”

Remember his own face … Hwanwoong honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked in a mirror. He closed his eyes, images of messy brown hair and tired hazel eyes passing like scattered snapshots of a life that didn’t seem like his own. This continued until his mind locked with certainty, and whatever power humming beneath his skin found this to be the one. 

Hwanwoong felt heat flood through his veins. He could feel his bones and muscles contort and shift but not a trace of pain twisted within. Despite his mind  _ screaming _ that it should hurt, only a pleasant warmth spanned within his frame. His mouth fell open, sucking in a deep rush of air as whatever was happening to him concluded.

Hwanwoong’s eyes snapped open, staring at his hands in a bit of a panic. They trembled before him and he realized his body sat bare and exposed. His heartbeat quickened ever more within his chest.  _ What the fuck? _ “W-where—” His voice devolved into a hoarse coughing fit, Hwanwoong doubling over.

“You are safe,” the stranger responded, Hwanwoong tensing as soft fabric draped over his shoulders. “No one will harm you here.” A bottle of water appeared before him; Hwanwoong accepted it with veiled eagerness. Though he would not voice it, the water had been the first clean liquid he’d been lucky enough to drink in weeks.

“Where … is here?” He finally managed, clutching the water bottle tightly against his chest even as it sat empty; the plastic was the only thing offering him support in that moment. The stranger sat down in front of him once again, the space between their bodies comfortable. Hwanwoong did not feel like he was being crowded and he appreciated that. Everything felt like too much for him right then, every part of his body on alert.

“My home.” The man raised a hand to silence him before he could question it. “My name is Youngjo. Do you remember last night?”

“Last night …” Hwanwoong squinted as he fought through the muddled memories in his mind. Like a lightswitch, it all came rushing back. He’d been walking in the park in search of a safe place to sleep for the night when a rabid dog had attacked him, dragging him to the ground and clamping onto his arm. He remembered adrenaline and fear and so many other emotions spilling from his body as he fought to get away. He remembered wondering if he was going to die. And … he remembered another dog fending it off, fur the color of midnight and dangerous muscle as it stood over him protectively. 

_ The wolf. _

His eyes snapped up, meeting Youngjo’s as realization flooded through him. “... You’re the wolf.”

“I am,” he responded, features gentle.

Hwanwoong bit his lip, struggling internally. So what happened last night was real. And … what he’d done just now was real too. His gaze fell upon the bite wound in Youngjo’s arm, still oozing blood onto the hardwood floor below their bodies. Hwanwoong finally set the water bottle down and opted for pulling the blanket ever tighter around his shoulders. “I did that.”

“I have been bitten by many pups in my lifetime; this is nothing.” Youngjo redirected his attention to his own arm, shrugging subtly.

“But … doesn’t it hurt?” He whispered.

“Every wound hurts, but it is less from those who share my burden.”

Hwanwoong withdrew on himself, looking impossibly small as the blanket swallowed his frame. He sucked in a breath and fixed Youngjo with a level gaze, heart hammering away in his chest. Meeting his eyes sent a spark of familiarity deep within, memories that were not his own flowing across his tongue in a mix of sweet honey and bitter chocolate. Youngjo felt safe; he felt like home. Hwanwoong wasn't sure why he felt so inclined to trust him.

"What am I?" He asked at length. "What are  _ you? _ "

"Ah. There's no right or wrong answer," Youngjo said. "At my core, I am human. By your terms, I am a werewolf. I would label myself more a cursed soul." The man extended the arm Hwanwoong had bitten. Yellow light spilled from the holes, hissing with the ferocity of a cornered snake. Before Hwanwoong's eyes the punctures pulled themselves shut, erasing the damage he'd done. 

"A werewolf …" He looked at his own hands, finally spotting the scarred mess that now decorated his arm. Hwanwoong lifted it in observation. A bird-like shape, barely dark enough to be noticeable, covered the worst of the wound. The sight brought phantom pain in a white hot flash and he winced, recalling the mangled mass it had been the previous night. 

Youngjo brought it up before he could ask. "That mark is your temporary binding, though it can become permanent should you wish. But yes, you are, in essence, a werewolf."

“In essence?” Hwanwoong asked, slowly relaxing the more they conversed. He still had plenty of questions zipping through his mind, curiosity growing over  _ who _ Youngjo was, but laying them out all at once would do him no good. Despite the impatience that often nipped at tired heels, Hwanwoong felt as if he had all the time in the world. Besides, it wasn’t like he had a home to return to before supper.

Youngjo hummed quietly. “Do you believe in magic, Hwanwoong?”

“I would imagine I have to now, considering what I just saw,” he replied matter-of-factly. 

“When you think of old tales of werewolves, you think of full moon transformations and terrifying beasts prowling the countryside. You imagine hulking shapes of fur and muscle with eyes the color of midnight. You fear, because that is what history has taught you. I would say the tales of werewolves began with me many, many years ago.”

So … Hwanwoong was now in debt to an old ass werewolf who spoke in a poetic way not suited for their current timeframe. Cool. And Youngjo’s words only served to confuse him more.

“These are things that can be better explained at a later time, however. You are a werewolf by vague definition but there is so much more to it, which we will properly go over once your body has recovered from the trauma it endured. As I said, the first transformation is the hardest.” 

Youngjo pushed himself onto his feet and stepped away. Hwanwoong’s eyes followed, and he became aware of the room he was in. Though on the smaller side, it was still vastly nicer than anything Hwanwoong had been lucky enough to step foot in. The walls were painted a light grey, a single window veiled by thin white curtains, while the floor was made entirely out of precious hardwood. He could see claw marks and scrapes deep in the grooves of the wood; he didn’t miss the blood stains either. 

A voice called in the back of his mind to smell and Hwanwoong obeyed without question. It felt as if a bandaid had been torn from his skin, senses suddenly acutely sharp as a rush of noise and smell assaulted him into sensory overload. He could smell the richness of fur and cologne, mixed with the sweet smell of sizzling meat. His ears picked up on soft voices somewhere else in the house, though he couldn’t pinpoint what they were saying, while the overwhelming press of birds chirping and rustling wind fought to drown it out. Hwanwoong clapped his hands over his ears and curled in on himself in a weak attempt to fend them off.

“Hwanwoong ... Hwanwoong! Focus on my voice.”

Hwanwoong obeyed, willing himself to hone in on only the sound of Youngjo as he murmured words of encouragement. Finally, he managed to force the other noises back.

“What the hell was that?”

“It gets better with training,” Youngjo said softly, holding out a pile of clothes. “Your senses are sharper now, but you can pick and choose what to allow in. I apologize, I should’ve warned you.” 

“It’s alright,” Hwanwoong mumbled. “What are these?”

“Temporary clothes for now. We used your old articles for comparison in size. We can go shopping for things more your style later, should you wish.”

“You’re giving me clothes?”

“Would you prefer to use the blanket?” Youngjo laughed. “I feel it may get taxing having to carry it around.” 

“I … Okay.” Hwanwoong accepted the clothes, setting them in his lap. “What … what happens now?” He questioned, feeling a little panicked as Youngjo stepped towards the door. The latter paused, fixing him with an unreadable stare.

“Get dressed and then we get can you something to eat. We’ll introduce you to everyone else too.” Youngjo turned the handle and stepped halfway through, not quite leaving the boy’s sight just yet.

Hwanwoong’s stomach rumbled at the prospect of food. He recalled the sweet smell of cooking meat and found the idea a little more agreeable than he probably should’ve. “Wait, what do you mean by everyone else?”

“The other members of my pack. People like you.” The man, sensing Hwanwoong’s sudden distress, shifted his expression into one of reassurance. “I promise, you are safe here. They won’t harm you. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” And then Youngjo backed into the hallway, allowing the door to swing shut after him.

A strange ambiance swallowed up the room. Neither quiet nor loud, Hwanwoong just simply sat there and wallowed in it. Seconds ticked into minutes as his mind raced with question after question. Everything Youngjo had told him didn’t feel real and yet the feeling of biting into tender flesh made him feel more alive than anything he had ever done. Hwanwoong did not enjoy the weird pleasure his body experienced. 

_ Oh, but you did.  _

He jumped at the intrusive voice, glancing around the room. 

_ You will not find me around you, young pup. I am within. _

_ Within? _ Hwanwoong questioned, pulling the bundle of clothes against his chest in a protective manner. 

_ Your inner wolf, so to speak. I am it. I am your guide. Or, as your Alpha calls it, your core _ , the voice whispered. It flooded his ears but wasn’t overwhelming. Like a lazy murmur as one settled down for slumber.  _ You exist in sanity because of me. _

_ My Alpha? You mean … Youngjo? _

_ Yes, young pup. You are his charge, and soon you will meet others who share the same burden _ , the voice, his inner wolf, murmured.  _ I cannot speak with you long, not with your lack of training, but I will guide you when you need it most. Call upon me soon; you will know when. _

_ W-wait! What do you mean!? _

The voice went silent and he couldn’t seem to figure out why that made his heart feel so empty. 

It was here the gravity of the situation finally pressed against his shoulders. The events of the previous night were true. Hwanwoong stared at the mark on his arm and recalled Youngjo’s words. A temporary binding, huh? But it could become permanent if he wanted, whatever that meant. Hell, he barely knew what the  _ temporary _ one had to do with anything.

Being a werewolf wasn’t really the part that bothered him. Actually, Hwanwoong couldn’t really find a reason to see negativity in the situation at all. Other than the events leading up to it and essentially being forcibly turned against his will and all. In truth, whatever life he had just stumbled upon carried the potential to become the greatest thing that could have possibly happened to him. He’d been living on the streets for a solid three months, and with winter looming on the horizon, his fears over where he’d be sleeping soon seemed to solve on their own. Hwanwoong’s perception of the situation tweaked itself.

He finally set the clothes down before him. His fingers carefully unfolded and spread out what had been offered to him. Every article was brand new, price tags torn free before being presented, but Hwanwoong could tell they’d cost a pretty penny. Whoever had purchased them went for a neutral theme and he appreciated that. The shirt was solid black paired with black sweatpants, wrapped in a large grey hoodie; they’d even been nice enough to include a pair of boxer briefs. 

Hwanwoong got dressed relatively quickly. Apprehension prickled at his spine as he approached the door, zipping the hoodie shut. He popped the door open, a rush of new air and various scents brushing along his nose. The color scheme outside matched the one in the room and the hardwood extended further down to places he couldn’t see just yet.

Youngjo stood just down the way. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans, eyes focused on the wall before him. Hwanwoong’s appearance seemed to break him from whatever thoughts were consuming his mind, and the one his core had called ‘Alpha’ turned to face him. 

Their eyes met and he once again felt a rush of calm flutter in his chest. Hwanwoong had never been the calm type; he was rowdy and loud and a bit of a troublemaker. Yet, staring into Youngjo’s warm eyes, Hwanwoong felt compelled to listen to anything he may say.

“Do they fit alright?” Youngjo replied, pushing himself from the wall.

Here, Hwanwoong realized just how tall the other man happened to be. He had to tilt his head back a bit just to keep their eye contact. An instinctive pang of fear forced him to shrink into the hoodie but Youngjo did not advance towards him, keeping still as Hwanwoong regarded him.

“Um … yes. You really didn’t have to buy me clothes.”

“Nonsense,” Youngjo scoffed, pivoting on his heel. The man motioned for Hwanwoong to follow him down the hall. “I wouldn’t invite you into my home and force you to walk around naked, though I suppose you wouldn’t be the first.”

Hwanwoong bit his tongue and awkwardly shuffled down the hall. Youngjo towered over him even more up close. The energy radiating from the taller man’s body sparked the urge to somehow make himself smaller, but he refrained.

“Come.” Hwanwoong followed obediently as Youngjo led him through the layout of the house. The hall extended a good twenty feet further, with a door on either side, before it flowed to the left into a staircase. It carried the same regal beauty as what he’d seen so far, made of dark stained wood and elegantly carved. Sunlight streaming from a skylight high above caused golden accents to glint beautifully as they approached. Youngjo made his way down it without hesitation.

Stepping up to the edge, Hwanwoong paused; he could hardly believe his eyes. The hallway leading there had served as a poor reference for what awaited his eyes. 

The staircase spiraled down into a large open entryway, floor made of the same wood he was currently standing on. Curtains made of gold satin covered the windows on either side of the double doors most likely leading to outside. Scattered rainbow lights across the floor caused Hwanwoong’s gaze to flick around the room for the source. It was found in the form of a crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling. He stared in open mouthed awe at the grandeur the room presented him.

Youngjo had to be rich. There was no other explanation.

“Wow …” he breathed, carefully picking his way down the staircase.

“Ah, this isn’t my doing,” Youngjo mused, hand lightly trailing over the bannister. “Seoho is … a bit of a designer, to put it lightly. His tastes are far more extravagant.” He motioned yet again for Hwanwoong to follow, leading him down another hallway. This one was considerably shorter.

It opened into a large living area of sorts, a plush white rug unfolded across the center of the room. A grey couch took up the far wall bordered by two matching chairs. Scattered around the floor in front of a large flatscreen were several game cases. As soon as Hwanwoong made this observation, another was tossed to the side; it landed with enough of a clatter to make him jump.

“Making a mess so early in the morning?” Youngjo called.

A head popped from behind the stand, the stranger’s face shifting from mild annoyance to bright excitement. It was a young boy, features sharp and vibrant, his hair so red it looked ablaze. Hwanwoong felt caught off guard by the appearance of someone new. Strange familiarity ghosted along his skin despite Hwanwoong knowing with certainty he’d never laid eyes upon the boy in his life.

“I couldn’t decide what I wanted to play,” he replied, voice not fitting his facial structure in the slightest. 

“We just bought you a handful of new ones, did you finish them already?” Youngjo shifted one of the cases with his foot and hummed softly; the noise appeared to be a habit of his.

“Who do you think I am?” The boy scoffed. His eyes settled on Hwanwoong a little unexpectedly and he shuffled awkwardly in place under the new gaze. “Is this Hwanwoong?”

“Ah yes!” Youngjo’s attention focused back upon him. “I apologize, everyone already knows your name. They can introduce themselves though.”

“It’s fine,” Hwanwoong mumbled. He made no effort to draw closer, however.

“I’m Dongju!” The red-haired boy called, waving a hand. “I am, actually  _ was _ , the newest until you came along. Feel free to use any of my game stuff if you want!”

“Oh, um, thank you.” He hunched further into the hoodie clinging to his frame. “It’s nice to meet you, Dongju.”

He stood there as Youngjo asked a few questions about someone named ‘Geonhak’, eyes traveling over the length of the room. The living room alone was bigger than the apartment he’d once shared with his mother. A glass slider at the far end revealed the edge of a pool and, even further, a stretch of trees. Nearest him was an open walkway leading to a dining hall with an ancient table that was definitely worth more than what he could earn in a month. How people could utilize so much space was beyond him, and what he’d seen so far appeared to be only a tiny sliver of just how big the house was. 

“Dongju can give you a full tour later if you’d like,” a voice said, pulling him from his thoughts. 

Hwanwoong whipped around, eyes falling upon the source of the voice. He was … tall. Really tall. Then again, it didn’t take much to be taller than him. Just from a glance, Hwanwoong could tell his hair had been dyed rather recently, the color midnight blue and vibrant. His features were as gentle as the smile on his face.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” The stranger held out his hand. “I’m Keonhee, and I’m the pack medic. If you need any first aid then I’m the one for you.”

Hwanwoong tentatively extended his own. Keonhee’s hand was soft but firm. He didn’t prolong the handshake either so as to avoid making him uncomfortable. 

“My name is Hwanwoong but …” He glanced back at Youngjo for a moment, then met Keonhee’s eyes again. “You probably already knew that.”

“Ah, did you finish lunch?” Youngjo asked, appearing next to Keonhee. Side by side, he could see the latter was just a smidgeon taller, but not by much. “I’m sure Hwanwoong here is starving.”

“I did! I was hoping Seoho and Geonhak would join us but it appears they both went out for a morning run.” Keonhee winked, and whatever bit of subtext the action carried went over Hwanwoong’s head. 

“Yes, Dongju just told me.” Youngjo’s gaze switched back to Hwanwoong, and his back straightened immediately. “You can trust Keonhee with anything medical or food related.”

“You flatter me,” Keonhee smiled, scratching the back of his neck. His frame radiated a calmness that soothed him deep within. “Usually I would save such a heavy dish for dinner, but your body is most likely low on energy. Is beef stew alright?”

Hwanwoong’s lips parted but his stomach growled before he could speak. Both Keonhee and Youngjo laughed, his cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come, we’ll get you a bowl and we can chat a little, yeah? I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” Keonhee made his way down the hall, and Youngjo trailed after him.

They left Hwanwoong to follow of his own accord, offering him autonomy over his actions for the first time in years. Long had it been since Hwanwoong had been given choice, not taken from, and the duo carried on without knowing the gravity of their actions. Here, perhaps, became the first flicker of trust and love he dared to allow himself. 

Hwanwoong swallowed his fears and took his first step towards them, the void between the human he had been the previous night and the wolf he was today growing further with every step.

**Author's Note:**

> my update schedule is Awful but I'll try my hardest to update when I can! 
> 
> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) and I'll send u some pics of youngjo (yes I did name this after my @ what about it)
> 
> thank you for reading!! \\(*^*)/


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